


stay with you til the morning

by holodne_cerce



Series: paris-ibiza 2019 [1]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holodne_cerce/pseuds/holodne_cerce
Summary: what happens in ibiza, remains in ibiza





	stay with you til the morning

not that they didn’t see each other on holidays in ibiza, but still. they stayed together for rather a short time, only about five days, and all these days were filled with a dizzying haze of chemistry, sparks flashing from glances or intimacy, and also a sense of uncertainty. in the morning - under the blazing sun by the fresh sea, in the evening - in neon, heavy air and thick basses of strip clubs. there was something attractive in the idea of visiting them, although neither marco nor kylian looked at the dancers. (kylian somehow gets involved into the story with prostitutes, and marco is too carried away by his new girlfriend - too much for it to seem sincere.). they drink - they drink a lot, wine, champagne, cocktails - they talk to someone, kylian stumbles upon other famous people here and there, with annoyance thinking, “are there really no other places for holidays?”. he stands opposite the stage, and marco’s stinging gaze burns between the shoulder blades, to the bone. he may look at the girl on the stage, kylian tells himself, putting the glass with unfinished martini and ice on the garcon’s tray. most likely, he looked at the stripper, what nonsense, he convinces himself, going upstairs to his room and picking up the restless steps behind his back through the noise of blood in his ears. he staggers, but doesn’t feel nausea - only lightness and warmth in the stomach, and a desire to do shameful things that give a taste of marco’s name on the tongue. ok, he admits that he’s in trouble.

marco barges into the room after him, and kylian’s heart turns over under the ribs, completely driving him crazy; he turns around, and marco flies at him like a little tornado, and frantically finds his mouth after brushing against his chin. kylian grabs him by the neck and lets his tongue in, greedily pawing over his tensed back with sweaty palms. he’d like to do it by the light to see his eyes, facial expressions and tattoos, being sober and not so desperate, but kylian has nothing to complain about. marco is malleable and very warm, his hands subtly smooth kylian’s taut belly - it’s hot and a little painful down there, kylian fidgets, trying to rub himself against something, anything, a deep exhausted half-moan breaks from his throat, and marco hisses, biting his lip. kylian doesn’t remember where the bed is, there is no time and effort to look around. he awkwardly bends down and, tightly clutching, picks marco up by his fleshy thighs, jerks him upward, on himself, and trying not to stagger. he can’t think any more because of the excitement, but so it becomes much better, especially when marco obediently wraps his legs around kylian’s waist and looks down - his eyes are wild, oily, shiny of wine and desire, his lips swollen. kylian examines him, squeezing his ass with his hands, but marco doesn’t let admire: he bends down and licks kylian’s throat, kisses under his ear, causing kylian to twitch from the sensation of his tongue.   
“imma fuck you right now,” kylian said hoarsely, looking marco in the eye as he pulled away from him. marco chuckled loudly:  
“i fucking hope so.” and rocked his hips, grinding against kylian’s crotch - he hoarsely sucked air through his teeth, and, unsteady on his feet, turned around to face the window, where – thank god - the bed stood. the maid made it, but he didn’t give a damn - kylian drops marco and rolls him over on his stomach, clumsily falls beside him. he’d like to do it normally, face to face and truly, but they will still have time for it. now they are drunk and reckless, and sick of desiring each other. marco throws himself up like a frightened animal, but doesn’t try to get up, only squeezes the sheet with his tattooed hand when kylian sinks down on him, already naked, holding himself on the tense arms, slowly fitting himself into the curves of his body like a puzzle, pressing his chest to marco’s back, letting him sense his accelerated nervous heartbeat.   
marco startled, muttered something, twitching slightly to the side. kylian weakly squeezed his shoulders, leaned lower:  
“what?”  
“nothing,” marco whispered incoherently. kylian clearly saw the thick row of eyelashes trembling heavily because of his darting gaze. “don’t linger.”  
it was very nice to cuddle up to him, his cock was sliding between marco’s buttocks and his own stomach, and kylian, despite the fog in his head, quite clearly realised there really was no need to linger. he stood up slowly, stupidly looked at the space around him, wondering where condoms could be and whether they actually could be at all, but marco, thank heavens, guessed what he wanted to do, and angrily shushed:  
“check in my pants.”  
awkwardly, kylian reached for his jeans, diligently driving away the thought of why marco wore condoms in his pants 24/7. more precisely for whom. marco raised himself on his elbows and looked back at him, and because of his piercing drunken gaze kylian couldn’t manage to focus; trembling with emotions and alcohol, his fingers rudely tore up the packaging and hastily rolled out the gum on his cock. the night breeze was bursting through the open windows, kind of sobering. what is happening in ibiza, remains in ibiza, kylian thought with a grin and slapped a pale tight ass: marco squealed and jumped, rubbing the injured place, and cursed in a low voice in italian. kylian slapped again, leaned closer:  
“fuck,” marco gasped out, kicking at random, but kylian, who had suddenly gained firmness and some semblance of control, grabbed his ankle and took it aside, exposing him and noting with satisfaction how cruelly marco blushed, hiding his face in his elbow. kylian bit his lip, also flushed, spread his asscheeks to the sides and spat loudly several times between them, right on the whitish, tensed ring of muscles. marco flinched and turned disbelievingly toward him.  
“you watched too much porn or what?” he croaked. even in the twilight it was distinguishable, how his entire face, neck and ears were red, his eyes glittered unhealthily from the obscenity of kylian’s action.   
“you wanted to do it dry?” kylian asked with a challenge, watching saliva spread all over marco’s perineum and how his muscles convulsively shrank. marco howled deeply and dropped his face into bed, slid his hand down, clutching himself:  
“damn… fuck, kylian, you’re a pervert…”  
kylian pressed on his back, gliding along his smooth lower back and squeezing his hip again, rubbed his wet hole with his finger (marco jerked again, cringing). he thought that it would be necessary to stretch him out and use a normal lubricant, and generally postpone it until a more suitable moment, but it was absolutely too late, so he laid down on marco again and, helping himself with his fingers, pushed his already oozing dickhead inside. tight, hot walls cramped convulsively, marco tightened his whole body and exhaled through gritted teeth - he was probably in terrible pain, and kylian stopped helplessly, feverishly wondering if it would be easier if he just waited. they froze in an awkward pose, and only their heavy breathing was heard. the velvety squeeze inside compressed him from all sides, kylian couldn’t restrain, moaned and buried his nose in marco’s neck - he clearly felt the hot pulsing between his legs and marco’s rhythmically tensing muscles only aggravated the situation.  
“marco-o,” kylian whined and clutched at his shoulder. the sheets around them crumpled and got pulled out of the mattress, the air thickened. marco exhaled loudly. kylian felt a sweet spasm twist his lower abdomen and only reflexively put his hand down, squeezing himself at the base, managing to extinguish the wave of orgasm in time. he felt marco shake violently under him. verratti hoarsely cursed and leaned back, relaxing, and kylian squeezed his eyes tight and put his hand on the bed, feeling the hot narrow gut pulling on his cock to the very root. he grabbed marco’s thigh, either to stop, or to prolong the movement. it was necessary to go slowly, but kylian simply didn’t have enough exposure. knocking the painful moans out of marco, he squeezed his ass, feverishly thrusted forward, once again, and again... sparks flashed before his eyes, his muscles were all tingling, there’s a ringing in his ears, kylian heard only marco’s cries and smacks of their bodies wet with sweat. he pushed marco between the shoulder blades and sank down too, continuing to hammer into him:  
“marco,” he choked, feeling marco bend more, deepening the penetration. “say my name... marco, hear me?”  
“kylian,” marco moaned huskily, grimacing and squeezing the sheets in his fist. kylian roared, clenching his jaws, pushed hard, sweepingly, to the very end - marco shrank, his face distorted, a shiver broke through his body. kylian frantically found his wrist, squeezed with all his might, leaned on his back, feeling himself finally splashing out; exhausted, he pressed his cheek against marco’s back, lazily touched his lips, ran his weakened hands along the ribs, and gently leaned back, holding his thigh. marco, still uttering strangled sounds, collapsed on his back, and kylian stared fascinatedly at his fist, ecstatically clutching his cock and at the taut light spurs, splashing on marco’s chest and stomach. a blissful torment frozen on his face made kylian feel a spark of animal desire again, but he no longer had strength for its physical incarnation, and it was better that way - one, the first, time was enough.   
he stretched out, overcoming the delight filling his body, and frankly kissed marco on his half-opened lips, looked at his weary smirk, and pulled back, throwing his arm over his head and running his hand around marco’s side, looking at him with a smile.  
now marco was his, unconditionally and completely.

maybe some things were still worth taking from ibiza with him.


End file.
